Yo Ho, Yo Ho, Shut Up
by Revan's split personality
Summary: Right. A self insert fic, but mostly reasonable. NO MARY SUE! I HATE that with a passion! See what happens when a vortex of doom appears and blueberry muffins are exchanged! New chapter up! I know, AGAIN!
1. Vortex of DOOM!

-1Okay, here's something new. My first POTC fanfic. I'm not sure if you peeps are going to think it's funny or not…I suppose we'll see. Whatever.

DISCLAIMER:s are useless. If they wanted to sue, they would, and they'd probably win. They have the money, and I don't. I'd lose. So I'm hoping that they sue someone else and not me. And I don't own the characters or anything. Just in case that actually works.

* * *

**Yo Ho, Yo Ho, Shut Up.**

Chapter One: Bad Things Happen When The Quadratic Equation Explodes

In my own defense, I didn't know what I was doing, nor the consequences of my actions. Perhaps before I start on about 'said actions', I should explain what the 'said actions' were. You see, there was one day where I was incredibly bored. So, I did what anyone in my position would do; fuck around with the time-space continuum. I mean, come on. That's obvious. How does one go about doing this, you say? Welp, I found myself a randomly loooong and convoluted formula off some crackpot genious' website (after filtering through all the crap about what a genious they are and how they're going to take over the world. You want an example, check out the Time Cube freak. Gotta love the pretty colors.) and plugged in some random numbers to see what the hell would happen. It was all in good fun, you see. I didn't think the stupid thing would actually work. Unfortunately for me, it did. Right after I plugged in the last random digit (3378783748, just in case you wanted to know) when a strange swirly vortex of doom opened up right underneath my sheet of paper. Well, in place of my paper, actually.

"Holy fuck on a stick of shit!" I jumped back in horror. Then I admired my work of doom. "I guess that means I win. Hmm…I wonder what's on the other side of vortexes of doom brought about by tears in the time-space continuum?" I took out a lined sheet of paper from my book bag and wrote a note. Using a pen. Duh.

_To whomever receives this;_

_Sup. My name's Denise, and I'm sending this note, hoping to get a few questions answered, if you can spare the time. First off, what's your name? I'm assuming that since I have a swirly vortex of doom on this side, you must have one too. What year is it? Do you live in the deepest pits of Hell? Because that wouldn't work for me. I don't deal too well with heat. If I get no answer, I'm assuming that this vortex a)leads nowhere, b)leads to somewhere uninhabited (most likely for a reason), or c) you're a bastard and I hate you. Please don't let it be c). Righto. I'm gonna go now, and throw in a muffin for good luck._

_Uh, Bye._

_Denise._

I folded the note up nicely and tossed it in the vortex with a blueberry muffin. Then, I waited while consuming a blueberry muffin of my own. About fifteen minutes later, something flew out of the vortex and whacked me in the arm. I managed to catch it, and to my surprise, I found that it was a bottle of something with a note on what seemed to be yellowed parchment. I took the note off and read it.

_Dear Denise,_

_The muffin was good. Have this._

"Great," I muttered while taking the stopper out of the bottle. "It's probably laced with cyanide or something. I'm not drinking it." I took a whiff. "The hell? It smells like rum…" I ran downstairs and grabbed a bottle of Bicardi Gold, which seemed to be about the same color. I then sniffed them both to compare. "Yep. Most definitely rum." I paused. "Why the hell would they send me _rum_?" I ran back upstairs to the vortex and scribbled out another note.

_The hell is up with the rum? Don't get me wrong, I'm fine with rum. Very good with a can of coke. But what's up with that?_

I threw it in and waited impatiently for a reply, which came much faster than the first.

_Rum is good. The muffin was good. We're square._

"Now they're making assumptions about what shape I am? Why do they assume I'm the same shape as them? And when the hell did a bottle of rum equal a muffin? Not in price, and especially not in nutritional value." I know what you're thinking/screaming at the computer screen: _He didn't mean that you're square! _To which I reply, 'shut the hell up. I was under a lot of stress and communicating with someone that could have been square for all I knew, and was assuming I was the same as well.' So there. I shrugged and threw in another muffin. And some other random crap. Like old magazines no one read anymore. Like my old crappy YM magazines. And some Cosmopolitan. I hate those. Then I followed it with this note;

_The hell is your name? Get rid of that crap if you don't want it. Most of it would probably burn well. You could probably get a good bonfire going. Tell me if you do. We could roast some serious marshmallows. Wait! I'm gonna write another note after this and actually pass it through the vortex of doom_ _(whom I have named Miles, after my army's mascot, Miles the text face of vampiric doom). So yeah. Don't put your eyes too close, or I'll poke 'em out._

To which I got this reply:

_Smith. You try whatever you want, but don't think I'll help you._

I wrote another note and held it in front of Miles. To be completely honest, I had my reservations about shoving my hand through the vortex. I mean, normally I wouldn't do something like shoving random body parts through rips in the time-space continuum, but this one proved to be safe (the muffin seemed to be received and still delicious), so I figured to give Miles the benefit of the doubt. My hand was shaking as I watched the note disappear through the vortex, followed by my fingers, then my whole hand. I was scared shitless at this point. What if I pulled my hand back and it the flesh was gone, or turned blue or something? What if my hand was gone, period? The air on the other side of Miles (that sounds strange, but you know what I mean) was warm and very humid. It reminded me of when I was in Nova Scotia, or that time I went to Holland. Bottom line: wherever my hand was, it was near an ocean. Nobody took the letter, and I really wanted to take my hand out of the gaping hole in the time-space continuum, so I began to wave the letter around wildly.

"Come on, take the goddamn thi-AUGH!" Someone- or some_thing_ (shudder)- had grabbed my wrist. I tried to pull back, but whatever it was didn't let go. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit…" I muttered quickly, looking around to see if there was something I could use to free myself. Like a gun, or knife. Unfortunately, the knife drawer was out of reach, and the guns were stored downstairs in a safe to which I didn't know the combination. Shit on a stick. I felt the letter taken from my hand, but the grip on my wrist didn't release. Suddenly, I had a random brilliant/retarded moment. I grabbed a nearby sheet of paper and managed to roll it up. I put one end to my mouth and shoved the other through the vortex, which was still swirling with doom.

"Paper tube warning say s LET ME GO!" My wrist was instantly free. I pulled it back and sighed with relief as I realized it was completely intact. Except for the red marks around my wrist where the person (or thing…) had been holding me. They had a fucking death grip. "That'll bruise." I pouted angrily as I rubbed my poor wrist. "The hell was wrong with them? Why didn't they seem to like my super cool paper tube warning?" I was pondering said questions when I saw someone else's hand pop through the vortex. And their hand was holding an old school pistol. When I say 'old school', I mean, like, seventeenth century old school. I screamed and ran over to a nearby drawer. Where I armed myself with a spatula.

"Taste my l337 spatula s illZ!" I whacked the hand with the spatula, and it retracted. "Why do I get the feeling that my actions are going to bring about bad things for me? AUGH!" I screamed as someone's head popped through the portal, looking very angry. The man seemed to be older. He had salt and pepper hair, and the mutton choppiest mutton chops I had ever seen in my entire life. He gave a quick look around and spotted me. An incredibly surprised look crossed his face. I think he had just realized where he was. Or, alternatively, wasn't.

"Oi, Cap'n! This isn't part o' the ship!"

"Ship? The hell crack are you smoking, dude? This is a bloody house!"

His eyes went incredibly wide and he popped back into his side. Taking this opportunity, I grabbed some crap from my room and shoved it in my bag, because after that little look, I didn't get a good feeling about things.

"Lemme see…makeup, a couple thingsa deoderant, underwears, clothing, book, laptop, solar charger that I made last week from things I randomly stole from people, mp3 player, shove it all in a plastic bag and tie tightly. Serves me. OH! Toothbrush and a tooooob of toothpaste! BRUSH!" I heard unpleasant crashes coming from the kitchen. "SHIT! Hairspray, lip balm, socks uh uh uh OH GOD!" Something REALLY loud crashed upstairs. I faintly heard someone say 'oops' before roaring laughter filled the house. I sure couldn't think with them being jovial and whatnot. "Would you retards SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. The house instantly became quiet. Unfortunately for me, I heard swords being unsheathed. "Son of a BITCH. This really isn't my day, isn't it?" I quickly put on whatever jewelry I had (maybe I could use it to bargain) and threw the ugly duffel bag over my shoulder just as I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. "To hell with it." I opened up my door. " Over here, losers." I picked up the bottle of rum I had randomly laid down in the hallway and walked over to the creepy people who seemed to like to dress like pirates. And, to my dismay, they seemed to like to smell like pirates too.

"Ugh…give me a second…" I walked back to my room and grabbed a spray can of Febreez and proceeded to spray the hell outta them until they started coughing and bitching. "Shut up! It smells like freshness, rather than ass, like you do! Stop your bitching!" I was about to throw the can back into my room, but decided it would be better to bring it along. "Righto. What the hell are you doing in my house?"

The one with the mutton chops stepped forward. "The captain ordered us to pillage this place. You know, steal everything of value then set the pace on fire type of thing."

"Oh no he didn't!" I snapped my fingers in a mock fashion. The man was about to say something back. I couldn't tolerate that. " Shut up. Don't say anything. I want to have a word with said Captain. So, this is the plan. Either you bring him _here_, or you take me _there_." The man chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't think that'll be happening, missy. Now step aside."

"Suck me, bitch. I don't give two fucks what the hell you say, now take me to your goddamned captain before I get fucking angry! The fuck is wrong with you?' No one said a single thing. They just stared at me, mouths hanging agape. Some of them actually looked quite flustered and had suddenly found the carpet quite interesting. I scoffed and pushed them back up the stairs. "Now, you're going to jump back through that nice little swirling vortex of doom and tell your captain his options. Got it!" He nodded, his eyes wide. I watched as, one by one, the pirates disappeared through the portal. "This has got to be the worst day of my life." I mumbled darkly as I waited in silence for about ten minutes. I grabbed a bagel, so it wasn't too bad. Suddenly, mutton chop man stuck his head through the portal.

"The captain says you can meet him through this…thing."

I looked at him blankly. "Meh. Changed my mind. If he wants to talk, he can shove his bloody head through the portal. No way am I risking my neck to talk to a bunch of pirates."

Mutton chop man, whom I had named Bob, frowned. "The captain won't be liking that, missy."

"Oh yeah? Well you can tell your captain that I don't give two shits about whether or not he 'likes it'. If he doesn't like it, he can shove it up his ass and piss off."

Bob looked like he had just shrugged. I couldn't see whether or not he did, though, since only his head was through the portal. He disappeared for a while again. I grabbed a bottle of water, and a couple cans of pop. I checked the clock. "Only four PM. Mom won't be home for another two hours, at least." I sniffed and sat on the countertop. That's when saw what they had broke. "You shitfuckers!" I hastily picked up the remnants of what used to be a dish my parents bought when they went to Mexico and laid it on the counter, trying to it the pieces back together. "SHIT! If only I glue now, everything would be perfect." I stated dryly. I sighed and turned around to see the back of someone else's head popping up through the vortex. "Uh, hi?"

The head quickly spun around to face me. I was guessing he was the captain. He wore a red bandanna over his dark hair, which was in a very strange style and had random things poking out and dangling making jingly noises. He wore a thick line of eyeliner around his eyes, which looked to be either a dark brown or black. He had a beard type thingy that was in two braids that dangled from his chin. He smiled widely.

"Ah. Denise, I assume?"

I shrugged as I began to rifle through a drawer, looking for glue. "And you are?"

"Smith. Smithy if you like." I looked at him for a couple of seconds before rolling m eyes.

"That is obviously not your name. I'll call you Joseph instead. So, Joseph, what was up with that whole 'pillaging the house' idea, hmm?" I gave him a sideways glance of doom. "I don't take too kindly to people threatening my personal belongings."

He shrugged. " Pirate."

"No shit, Sherlock." I slammed the drawer in frustration. " Bsatards! Broke the bloody bowl and I don't even have anything to stick it back together with."

He chuckled. "Shit happens."

"That sounds wildly out of character, Joseph."

"Whatever do you mean, luv?" I scoffed before walking over to the table. He looked at my hand. "That's a very nice ring you've got there, missy."

"The hell is wrong with you? Is that why you sent your little pirate crew to pillage my house?" He didn't reply. "Fuck off."

He raised his eyebrows. "Gibbs told me that your language was a bit strong. Didn't believe him. Should've."

"Who the hell is Gibbs?"

"He's my first mate. The bloke you've been speakin' with."

"What, you mean Bob? So Bob's name is Gibbs?" The man looked at me like I was a freak. Which is a point I won't argue. "So what's your name, el capitan?"

"I told you, it's Smith."

"And I told you I'm not a retard. What's your name?"

"Smith."

"I guess I'll just keep on calling you Joseph then." He frowned at me, so I shrugged. "It's your own fault for not telling me your name, Joseph. Get over it. Anyway…about this whole pillaging my house thing. It's a no-no. But, I know that being a pirate and all, you really don't care, so I'm willing to make a deal with you. Name your terms."

And now, because I'm getting tired of writing crap that doesn't seem to get anywhere, Joseph's head disappeared and the whole crew jumped out and kidnapped me. They dragged me through my lovely vortex, down to the lower levels of a ship, and threw me into the brig. I was quite angry with them. Quite angry indeed.

* * *

Mmm. And there it was. Feel free to comment. It gets better later on. More interesting. Anyway...go away now. 


	2. INSERT CHAPTER NAME HERE!

-1Righto. If the story seems to kinda stop abruptly, it's because it was written in one huge chunk and I'm trying to break it up a bit. Sorry 'bout that. I hope this chapter is more enjoyable. See previous chapter for disclaimer.

"The hell was that for!?" I screamed as the last of the kidnap party ascended the staircase out of view. I sat down and sighed. "This sucks big time. I hate you all." I pulled out my mp3 player and listened to some Rammstein. I was busy humming along with 'Reise Reise' when a loud voice caught my attention. I pulled one of my headphones out of my ears and looked over at Joseph who was standing in front of the cell.

"Sorry about that all, luv. But you know how it goes." He gave an apologetic shrug which was more mocking than anything. I glared at him and scoffed.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. What do you want?"

"It's not about what I want, luv. It's about what you're willing to do to get out of there, savvy?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Really. How cliché. You're probably expecting me to start stuttering out a list of things I can do. Generic female things, like cooking and cleaning and sewing. Well, I can tell you straight up that I don't know how to do any of those things. Or, one might think that I'm randomly special and that I can sail or fight or something. Once again, the answer is a resounding no. So, Joseph, I'm going to tell you what I can do: nothing. You let me out of here, I'm going to do absolutely nothing, except for eat, sleep, shit and bitch. What do you say to that, captain?"

He raised his eyebrows, obviously amused. "I say that you're obviously not good at bargaining."

I shrugged. "I don't bargain. I give you the bottom line. You don't like it, you can shove it twenty feet up your ass for all I care."

He chuckled under his breath. "You know, I've never met a woman quite like you before."

I rolled my eyes. "Do tell." My sarcasm was almost tangible. He didn't seem to notice. Or care.

"Mostly, when we get prisoners, they beg for their freedom. Willing to give up anything to get out from behind those bars. They offer to work, clean, cook, sail-"

"Basically, everything I said I couldn't do."

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "Aye. And, if we get a bonny lass, sometimes they offer more, if you know what I mean."

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. "If that's what you're expecting from me, I hope you're well acquainted with disappointment, because you'll be getting a lot of that. Now, if that's all you have to say, I have a lot of nothing to do. I'm a very busy person." I was going to put the headphone back into my ear, but he cut me short with more conversation.

"What's that?" He pointed to my mp3 player.

"It's my mp3 player."

"Mp3? What's that?"

I sighed. "Music." I said simply. Like I could describe what an mp3 was. I'm not a fucking computer genius. Just insane. I could tell that my answer didn't satisfy him. I sighed again and held it out towards him. "Look…you plug earphones into here-" I pointed to the headphone jack plugged in at the top. " And then you turn it on-" I pointed to the nifty power button. "And then music plays magically. It's all very occult and whatnot. Probably involves Satan." I shrugged and switched the song. He looked at it very sneakily, like he was calculating something. He was silent for a few seconds.

"That."

"Mwuh?" I looked at him, thoroughly confused.

"If you give me that, I'll set you free."

I looked at him incredulously. "The hell man!? You'll let me free and what, shove me overboard? Nuh-uh. No way are you going to fool me. I don't trust you one bit, Joseph."

"That's CAPTAIN Joseph to you."

"No it's not. Jospeh." I scrolled through the tracks and decided to listen to a bit of Vivaldi. I was feeling rather classical. "And if I trade this to you, I want something more than my 'freedom' in return. I want…" I looked him over quickly, and a nice little trinket hanging from his belt caught my attention. "That. That black box type thingy hanging from your belt. I want that."

He grabbed the black box protectively. "You're not getting my compass. Who sent you?"

"The hell man! You were the one who kidnapped me, so I guess that would be you! Yes Joseph, I was sent by you to get your compass so that I could deliver it to you later so you could use it as a tool against yourself. Give me a break. I didn't even know it was a bloody compass. I suck at orientation. I don't want it anymore. I want that." I pointed to his pistol. "I like shooting things. Things that die."

"You're a cheery lass, aren't ye?" He grumbled. "And no. You can't have my pistol. I need it. And it's CAPTAIN Joseph!"

" No, it's not! What so special about your pistol? Couldn't you just give me that one and then take someone else's?"

He glared at me. "No, I couldn't. Even if I could, I wouldn't. This pistol is special, and mine, and you can't have it."

"You're such a bitch." I stated before turning off my mp3 player. "Is that all you came down here for? To remind me that I should be begging for my freedom and offering to do crap around here? Wouldn't that really be defeating the whole 'freedom' thing? I don't understand you people. You don't make sense."

He shrugged. "Sense is overrated."

"…touche." I sat down and yawned. "What time is it?"

He gave me a strange look. "Does it really matter?"

"…shut up." We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. "Yeah. You can go now. You probably have pirate-y things to attend to. And I have much random lounging to do. You're infringing upon my lounging time. Go away."

He shook his head. "You're a strange one, luv."

"Tell me something I don't already know, Joseph."

He cringed. "Captain Joseph."

"Goodbye, Joseph. Have fun NOT being imprisoned!" He shook his head and went up the stairs, muttering darkly. "Ah. Anger and insanity. My work here is done." Smiling, I nodded off for a little nappy-poo. I was freaking tired.

I awoke when my head made contact with the floor.

"The hell!?" I stood up, but the ship suddenly lurched and I found myself on my ass. "Oh. Probably be safer to stay this way anyhow. More padding." I tried to hear what was going on top deck and ignore my headache at the same time. I hit my head pretty damn hard. "Fuck. With my luck, I'll be dead by morning…night? Ah, fuck. I'll be dead soon by cranial hemorrhaging. Yaay hemorrhaging." I grabbed my duffel bag and pulled out my pencil kit. "I know I had some Tylenol in here somewhere…AHA!" I pulled out a small tube of Tylenol. "Shit. No water. Fuck! I'm thirsty!" I made a mental note to bitch at Joseph about the shitty service the next time he came down. If he ever came down again. I rifled through some other random crap and pulled out my stuffed lamb, whom I had also named Joseph. I hugged it close as the ship lurched around much like a drunken drunkard who was drunk. On alcohol. And maybe did a few lines of coke. I dunno. It was pretty bad.

So yeah. I just sat there for a few hours, wondering what in the name of fuck was going on outside my nice little cell, and wondering if there was a way to get out so if the ship went down I wouldn't drown because that would suck. Unfortunately for me, there wasn't a way. Unless I was to randomly become some Mary-Sueish woman of absolute power! I closed my eyes really tightly and wished with all my heart (which was probably why I failed so miserably). After a few seconds of this, I opened my eyes (mainly because my eyelids were getting tired of squinching so tightly) and walked over to the bars.

"Let's see if that worked. If I'm a Randomly Powerful Mary-Sue™, I should be able to just touch the lock and have it fling open for me!" I grabbed the bars and pushed. Nothing happened. "Damn reality!!" I kicked the cell door as hard as I could, and guess what!?

My foot fucking HURT! And my pride was a bit wounded. But enough about that. The ship stopped lurching around like the aforementioned drunken individual, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to get hurt anymore. I picked up Joseph (the sheep) and held him close. "Your fuzziness is comforting." I stated. "I don't think I'll let you go just yet." I snuggled my soft little lamb toy so intensely that I didn't even hear Joseph coming down the stairs.

"You all right, missy?" he called out.

"Except for that random change in verb tense, I think so. My foot hurts."

He came all the way down and stopped in front of the cell. "Your foot hurts."

"That's what I said. My foot hurts."

"I don't really care." He said nonchalantly. I shrugged.

"If you did, I'd be a bit scared." I snuggled Joseph (the sheep) closer. "Mmmm…fluffy."

He looked at me like I was on crack. "Is that a sheep?"

"A stuffed animal. Sheep. That I bought. For three dollars. At a Saan store. I am the queen. Of sentence fragments. Fear me." I stopped talking like Captain Kirk and threw Joseph (the sheep) into a corner. "Right. What the hell happened out there, Jospeh?"

He shrugged. "A storm. The ship held out fine, and we only lost two crewmembers."

"Uh huh, uh huh, don't care." I looked at my nails. "I'm dehydrated. I need water."

"Ye really are a strange one, aren't ye?" (gotta love the random accent thrown in there. Too lazy to type it out all the time.) He continued on without my prompt. Like I was going to give him one in the first place. "Normally, when you tell a lass that someone died, they go all soft and start crying and wailing and such."

"They're stupid pussies. What do you expect?

"But ye…" he continued on like I had said nothing at all. "Ye didn't even bat an eyelash." I was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, and he crouched down so he could look at me in the eyes. I stared right back at him. Fuck that if he thought he's going to intimidate me! "Something must have happened to ye to make ye so cold."

I shrugged. "Not really. After a while, living where I do, you kinda become desensitized to the whole 'death and destruction' thing. It gets old. Fast." I blinked before studying my nails. "Besides, it's not like I _knew _them or anything. If I shat myself and started bawling every time someone I didn't know died, I'd be crying twenty-four seven. And that would just be stupid and emo. I'm not emo. I'm the opposite of emo. I don't have emotions, really." I looked up to see him studying me closely, like he didn't believe me or something. I shrugged and sat back. "You don't seem too distraught by the loss either, Joseph."

He looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes. "Jack."

"Uh…William?"

His eyes shot back to me as soon as I had said the name. "You know William?"

"I have a cousin named William, but I get the feeling that's not who you're referring to at all. Other than him, though, I don't know any other William, so I guess the answer to your question would have to be no. I thought we were just saying random names. There goes my fun."

Joseph shook his head. "No, my name is Jack. Jack Sparrow." He looked at me expectantly.

"Umm…sounds familiar, but I can't exactly place where I've heard it before…" I had actually never heard of him before. At all. The only pirates I knew of were Blackbeard, Calico Jack, Anne Bonney, the other chick what's-her-face-Mary-something-I-think, and Captain Hook off of Peter Pan. Jack seemed a bit put off.

"Ye know, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"I'm hoping you do, seeing as how you're him."

He snorted. "Ye know what I mean." I guess my humor was lost on him. Pity.

"Really, like I said, you sound familiar. I'm still thirsty here, buddy."

He got up and looked through his pockets until he found a key. He pulled it out and unlocked the cell door. I watched blankly as it swung open with a loud, rusty creak. I looked up at him. "Yeah. Still thirsty."

"If you're thirsty, you can get yourself something to drink." He motioned towards the stairs. I looked to the stairs, then back to him.

"I don't get it. You're just letting me go?" I slapped myself on the forehead. "Right. On a ship. Nowhere to escape to, unless I feel like drowning in the middle of the ocean. Which I don't. When I die, I don't want to end up a bloated corpse being picked at by ugly fish." I stood up and walked past him, quite wobbly. "Damn ship…not being like normal ground. Should be stationary." I managed to stumble my way on deck and randomly meander around. I did my best to ignore the strange looks some of the crew gave me, and the inappropriate looks others gave me. I was pretty creeped out. "Ugh. Creepers." Turned out that the kitchen was on the second deck, one deck above the brig. I had walked right past it on the way up. Jack had followed me, and I guess he was just watching me stumble around for a while, quite disorientated. I caught sight of him laughing at me and scowled.

"Shut up! Where the hell is the water?"

He whistled, and Gibbs came running up. "You need something, Captain?"

"Show miss…er…what was your name again?"

"Denise." He motioned for me to say my surname, but I ignored him and just stared blankly like I didn't understand. He sighed and continued.

"Show Miss Denise to the water, if you'd be so kind."

Gibbs didn't seem too pleased. "Ye know Captain, I don't even know why you've kept her aboard. Women are-"

"Bad luck, I know, Mr. Gibbs." Jack cut him off rather irritably. "Just show her the way, alright?"

Gibbs nodded curtly and motioned for me to follow him. I did, and practically had to run to keep up with him. He went down some stairs and around some corners and this way and that until we finally showed up in a galley. He pointed to one side.

"Ye've got your grog, your straight rum, and your water. If I were ye, I'd stick with the rum." He whispered. I nodded.

"Right. But you're not me, so shut up your face." I grabbed a random tankard sitting on a table and wiped it off with my sleeve. "Gross." I had the feeling I wasn't going to find a clean one though, so I just made my way over to the beverages and looked. They were in tapped kegs. I wandered over to the one Gibbs identified as water and poured some into my tankard. I brought it up to my lips and gagged at the smell. "UGH! The HELL is this!?"

"The water." Gibbs stated like I was a moron.

"This isn't water. This is…rancid!" I dumped it out on the floor, causing Gibbs to cry out in disdain. "Oh shut up. It's a bloody ship. It's meant to get wet, you freak." I skipped the grog, since I knew it was just the rancid water mixed with rum. Anything with that water in it wasn't going down my gullet. But that left me with a dilemma. "How do you people survive on rum? I mean, if you're thirsty, alcohol wouldn't be my first choice, especially since it's a diuretic. You'd probably end up losing water."

"What?"

I looked at Gibbs and shook my head. "I'll explain it some other time." I sighed, weighted my options, and went for the rum. I did still have a bottle of water (and some juice boxes) in my duffle. But I was saving those for an emergency. I took a small sip and grimaced. "Never did like rum that much."

Gibbs' eyes went wide, and he advanced towards me and put a hand over my mouth. "No no no no no!! Never say that around the Captain, ye hear??"

I pulled Gibbs' hand off my face. "Say what, rum tastes like greasy ass?"

He rolled his eyes angrily. "Yes! Never say that around him, ye get me?"

I nodded. "No. No I do not. If I want to say rum tastes like greasy ass, I'll bloody fucking say rum tastes like greasy ass. You get me?"

Gibbs looked both angry and nervous at the same time. "Well, if ye do, make sure I'm not anywhere near ye." He then led me back to the surface, and damn was it nice to get a whiff of fresh air. While the people seemed…acceptable…enough, they didn't seem to have anything along the lines of 'deodorant' or 'showers', and it stank like rank middle-school locker room B.O. It was disgusting. It made me want to go back to my nice little cell, where it didn't stink like bodily odors. Ew. I was hoping it was like skunk…once you smell it for long enough, you can't smell it anymore. What a sweet relief that would be.

I looked around and saw Jack at the helm. I meandered over, randomly taking small sips of my disgusting rum beverage. I tried my best not to gag too often. I stood at a railing and stared out to sea, Jack standing at the wheel a couple of feet behind me.

"So, why did you let me go?"

I looked in time to see the end of a shrug. "You're not a threat."

"Psh. Fine. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

"Fine by me."

I stared out to sea for a couple of minutes, listening to the scurrying of feet on deck, and random yells.

"Where are you heading, anyway?"

I turned to face Jack, leaning against the railing, hoping a huge wave wouldn't come out of nowhere and soak my back. It would be uncomfortable. And salt water fish are constantly peeing, which is gross. Jack didn't answer. In fact, I think he was pointedly ignoring me. I was about to say something about it when someone tromped up the small set of stairs.

"Jack, some of the rigging by the topsail has snapped and we need more rope."

The dude had got to be the least piratey looking dude I had seen on the ship. He suddenly looked at me, and seemed quite surprised. "Sorry. Didn't know you were having a conversation."

"Conversation my ass." I spat back. "Who are you? You don't look like a pirate to me." It actually seemed like he took that as a compliment.

"The name's Will. Will Turner."

"That's nice. My name's Denise." I held my hand out, and he shook it uncertainly then turned back to Jack.

"Jack!"

"Eh?' He replied rather lazily.

"The rope?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "There's more in the lower decks. Stored in the bilges. Go get it." That last part was directed towards me. That made me laugh. Jack didn't seem to think it was all that funny. Will was just confused.

"Oh. Wait. You're serious." I chuckled to myself. "Yeah, fine. I'll go find the rope. And then I'll find out that the rope is much too heavy for me to carry, and then I'll come back up and get someone else to carry it, which means that I'll probably have to go back down to show them where the rope is, and then go back up and be useless again. Can't we cut out that whole middle part and have someone else go down there instead?"

"No." Jack stated simply. An almost malicious smile spread across his face. "But mister Turner can accompany you down to the bilges, just in case a bilge rat scurries out and scares you." he finished in a mocking tone.

I laughed. "That reminds me of a story. Once, my brother was standing on the deck, and when you looked over you could see where the door to our basement was. Anyway, there was a mouse there so he grabbed a huge rock and dropped it and it landed on the mouse which splattered everywhere." I paused for a moment. "And that was my story. Let's go, Will." I dragged him along to the bilges of the ship. He managed to grab a nice lantern on the way down, which was a good thing, seeing as how it's bloody fucking pitch black in the bilges of a ship. We stumbled around, tripping over the odd bilge rat that nipped at our ankles angrily in response. And without provocation. Bilge rats….I can understand why it's considered an insult.

"So…what's it like?"

I looked at Will sideways. "Uh…cinnamon…ey?"

He looked at me strangely. "Okay then. I, uh, don't think we were talking about the same thing."

"Yeah, me neither. What were you talking about?"

"Well…" He paused as he looked in a couple crates. "I was asking about what it's like where you're from."

"Oh." I kicked at another rat and sneered as it scurried away. "Um…well…we have lots of trees and grass." I shrugged. "I really don't know how to explain it. It's a lot different though. No pirates, for one thing. Well," I paused to wipe my forehead. "not in the way you guys are pirates, anyway. Just, like, people who illegally burn dvds and stuff and whatnot."

He gave me another Confused Look™. "Dvds?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Another explanation for another day. Anyway, the air is a lot drier, seeing as how, where I live, there isn't an ocean anywhere close. It's the prairies. Mostly farms and farmland. And forests. Mountains. Lakes and rivers. You know, the basic geographical…things." I kicked around some empty bottles that were randomly down there and watched as they sloshed through the thin layer of water on the floor, resting at the bottom of a coil of thick rigging rope. "Hey, I think we found the rope." I pointed to the coil, and Will made his way over, handing me the lantern as he passed. I watched as he hoisted the coil over his shoulder, grunting at the weight. I couldn't help but feel glad that he was the one who had to carry it, and not me. We made our way back to the deck and Will went off to fix the sails. He invited me along, but I politely declined by asking him if he was on crack or something. I walked back to where I was initially before our little quest and looked out to sea.


	3. Of Conversations

WHA-CHA! Chappie three is up just for you, JollyVenturer!! Glad you enjoy it! Sorry about taking so long too. Bloody school...

* * *

I watched with detachment as Will climbed up the rigging. "That man…is bloody insane." Jack shot me a rather ironic look.

"Maybe you need to step back and take a quick look at yourself, luv." He stated, a smug smile on his face.

"Hey, I already know I'm insane, and I enjoy it thoroughly. So, next time you think you're going to go and say something witty, just don't, because I've heard it all before. Believe me." I smiled and looked out over the ship, and watched as the crewmembers scurried around, doing their respective jobs. "They look like friggin' ants. Can they carry ten times their own body weight too?"

Jack gave me a look that could rival Will's Confused Look™. I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just joking, Joseph. Settle."

"That's CAPTAIN-"

"No. We've been over this before."

"- and I told you my name is Jack. Jack Sparrow."

"Yes, Joseph, I am aware that you told me your name is Jack. Captain Jack. Captain Jack Sparrow. Let me guess…you like your rum shaken, not stirred." He obviously didn't get it (I don't know why I expected him to in the first place…) and looked mildly insulted. Why you'd rate level of insult like you do cheese or salsa, I don't know. Anyway…

"You talk too much, you know that?"

"Normally I don't really talk at all. So, no." He shook his head and motioned for someone else to take the wheel. "Where are we going, anyway?"

He spun around (a miraculous feat for someone of precarious balance) and gave me what I took to be a look of foreboding. "The Isla de Muerta." He swaggered over to me until he was inches away from my face. "It's an island that cannot be found-"

"Except by those who already know where it is." I finished, sounding bored. "Right right. How long until we're there?"

He backed away and frowned, looking slightly disappointed. "You really know how to suck all the fun out of things, don't ya?"

"Yes." I smiled cheerily. "I'm like a fun vampire. Blah! I've come to suck your fun!" I paused for a moment. "That just sounds stupid. And dirty." Jack blinked a couple of times.

"Right. I'm off to find some rum then." He opened his compass, pointed in a random direction, and swaggered off. I watched as Gibbs fixed their heading (he was the one who took the wheel). I sighed heavily.

"Something on your mind, lass?"

I sighed again. "This is all fine and dandy, but I miss home. We had tapioca pudding." I lamented, rather lamely I might add. I heard a door shut. "Are the captain's quarters right underneath us?"

"Er, aye. Why do you be asking that?"

"Wait…what did you just ask me?"

"Why do you be asking that?" He replied, a bit louder than before.

"No, I _heard_ you fine, I just…I need a fucking translator." He began to ask again. "NO! Just…shut up. Just shut up."

He shook his head before dawning a look of enlightenment. "Where be the boy?"

"What the hell are you going on about now?"

He scanned the rigging, then the deck. "Ah! WILL!! GET OVER HERE!!"

I cringed at the sheer volume of the man. "Holy…I think my eardrums are bleeding…" Will tromped up the stairs and stood in front of Gibbs, catching his breath.

"What…what is it?" Gibbs smiled.

"We be needing you to translate."

Will gave him a Confused Look™. I stifled a giggle. "Translate? Why do you need me to translate?"

"Because the lass-" he jabbed a thumb in my direction. "-doesn't seem to be understanding me."

Will turned his Confused Look™ to me and it was all I could do to not burst out in laughter. "You can't understand him?"

I shook my head, fearing that if I tried to reply with words, I would lose control and start laughing my ass off.

"Funny thing is," Gibbs continued, "she seems to be able to be understanding the Captain perfectly."

Will looked at me like I was a fucking alien. "You can understand Jack but you can't understand Gibbs?"

I shrugged. "World works in mysterious ways, eh?"

Gibbs leaned over to Will conspiratorially. "She even talks like him." Will shook his head. I scowled.

"I understood THAT perfectly fine." I crossed my arms. "Now that we've got the translator here, hows about we go about figuring out what the hell it was that you said before?"

Gibbs and Will looked at each other and nodded in assent.

"Right. Mr. Gibbs, would you please reiterate the query you had posed to me earlier?"

"She does speak like Jack." Will said, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. I was so tempted to smack him.

"I think I need a translation." Gibbs stated, obviously confused. I rolled my eyes.

"Say what you asked me before!" I hissed. I had thought I made it perfectly clear, but nooooo.

"Ah." Gibbs cleared his throat and turned to Will. " I asked her why she be asking about what be under where we be standing."

Will nodded, then turned to me. "I really don't know how I could make that any more straightforward."

My jaw dropped, then opened and closed several times as I tried to think of something to say. I ended up sneering and making a sound of derision before turning my back to them. "I'm going to make their lives a living hell…"

"It's just a simple question, lass." I heard Gibbs say.

"TELEVISION!"

There was a long pause. "…what?" I turned to face Will.

"You heard me." I smiled. "Television."

Gibbs frowned. "What be that?" I burst out laughing. "What be so funny!?"

I wiped away my tears of mirth. "It's a television. A television is a television. I can't make it any clearer." They both looked at me, unamused. "What?" They sighed, and each went back to their jobs. I sighed and looked out over the railing. "I wish I had a bottle of rum right about now."

"What was that, lass?"

"Nothing, Gibbs. Nothing at all." I sighed again.

"Obviously there be something on your mind."

I spun to face Gibbs. "Oh no! We're NOT starting that again! No way in HELL!" I heard a faint yell come from the crow's nest. Gibbs smiled grimly.

"We're almost there. Go get the captain."

"Whoah, what? Who? Me?!" He nodded. "No way am I going to get Joseph. He hates me."

"Lass, if he hated you, he wouldn't have let you roam free on the ship."

I paused. "Touché. I'm still not getting him though. Maybe he doesn't hate me, but he sure as hell doesn't like me."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Would you like someone if they refused to call you by your name an rank?"

I thought about it for a second. "Depends on the person. All my close friends call me Dennis. Don't ask me why. But, I suppose if it wasn't my friend, I would get annoyed."

"Exactly."

"I don't like your tone, Gibbs." He shot me an evil look. "Holy crap man, I'm joking!" I raised my hands. "Alright, alright! Your unrelenting stare of anger has changed my mind! I'll go get Jack."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "A-_hem._"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'll go get _Captain_ Jack." Gibbs smiled and nodded.

"There be a good lass."

"Riiight…" I tromped down the stairs and faced the fancy-pants door to the captain's quarters. I took a deep breath and knocked three times. "Uh…Captain? Gibbs told me to get you because we're almost somewhere." I waited a couple of seconds and got no answer. "Well Denise, there are a wide range of possible scenarios here. He could be asleep and didn't hear you, passed out and didn't hear you, ignoring you but heard you, or dead and unable to hear you." I had no idea what to do, so I knocked again. "Hello? Are you dead or something?" Still no answer. I shrugged and went back up the stairs.

"Gibbs? I think he's dead or something!"

He shrugged. "He probably just had too much drink. See if the door's locked."

I paused. "And if it's not?"

He looked at me like I was the stupidest thing alive. "Then go in."

"I don't think I want to be doing that…"

He rolled his eyes. "Just go. If the captain gets angry at you, tell him I told you to do it."

"Oh, yeah. I feel SO confident now!" I rolled my eyes and tromped down the stairs again. I tried knocking, which was unsuccessful again. I tried kicking the door, which just made my foot hurt. I heaved a huge sigh before trying the handle. It was unlocked. My insides all squiched up and every fibre of my being was telling my to run. _It's a trap! It's all a scheme against you! They probably planned this all! They're going to embarrass you SO BAD! RUNNN!!!!_ I shook my head and slowly pushed the door open, cringing as it squealed in protest. "Goddamnit, SHUT UP!" I whispered loudly.

"…nrr…ehhh…rummm…."

I looked over to see Jack rolling over in his sleep. In a comfy-looking four-poster bed. "God damn! And I was stuck sleeping in the brig…" I grumbled as I walked over. I reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. "Time to get up, Jo-…Jack. Captain. Uh, sir." He swatted in my general direction, an empty rum bottle falling out of his other hand. "I wish I could take a rum-induced siesta." I mumbled before picking up the bottle and setting it in a clear spot on a nearby table. "Let's try that again." I walked back over to him and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him urgently. "Captain! We're going down!!"

He was up like a shot. "Batten down the hatches!! Huh!? Wha!?"

"I said we're almost there, captain."

He blinked sleepily. "…oh." He stretched languidly then looked around. "Where's my rum?'

"You mean that empty bottle you dropped? I put it on the table over there." I pointed in the general direction.

"…oh." He stared at me for a couple of seconds. "What are you doing in here?"

"Waking you up. I knocked. Very loudly. There wasn't any reaction, so Gibbs told me to come in here and wake you up."

Jack smiled. "You can get out now."

"I sure can." I turned and left. I climbed back up those blasted stairs. "You guys should get escalators put there." I stated to no one in particular.

"Es-ca-la-tors?" Gibbs asked.

"Moving stairs." He looked like he was going to ask more questions, so I cut him off. "Nevermind."

A couple of minutes later (which I spent staring off into space) Jack came stalking up the stairs, looking very determined. "I've got the wheel again, Mr. Gibbs."

"Aye captain." Jack took his place at the wheel and flicked open his compass. Gibbs snapped his fingers in front of m face to get my attention.

"Who? What??"

"Follow me, lass." Not knowing anything else I could do, I did as I was instructed. I saw some of the crew members sniggering. Whether it was due to what I was wearing, the fact that I was a girl, or because someone was doing something behind my back, I couldn't tell. So I just gave them the general reaction and fingered them. It shut them up damn good. Still, curiosity got the best of me.

"Gibbs? You wouldn't happen to know what they were laughing about, would you?"

Gibbs sighed as he leaned against the main mast and took a swig from a small container that was held around his neck by a string of something. "Females aboard a ship…bah!"

"What, did a man give birth to you?"

He looked at me incredulously. "No! My mother was a fine lady!"

"Then I think you owe women more respect, because without us, you wouldn't be here."

He glared at me and took another swig before closing it up again and shoving it back down his shirt.

"Besides, we're sexy, so there." He shook his head and pointed to a rope. "You see that rope over there?"

"No. No I don't." I replied dryly. "What do you want me to do with the rope? And if you say anything along the lines of me using it to hang myself, I will make you a eunuch."

He moved a couple of inches away from me and cleared his throat. "Bring it over here. You know how to tie knots, right?"

"Urrr…what kind of knot are you referring to? I can tie normal knots, and I know how to tie a Turk's Head. Is that what it's called? It makes a pretty bracelet. Anyway…that's about all I know when it comes to knots." I looked out to sea to find that we were surrounded by nasty looking cliffs. Mast tops were jutting out of tomorrow like nobody's business. "Whoah. That's depressing." The entire crew had gone over to the side of the ship and were looking over the channel with sad expressions.

"Puts a chill in the bones how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage."

I looked at him for a second. "Meh." I jumped as Will, who had randomly materialized beside me, spoke. He was looking over towards Jack, obviously bothered by something.

"How is it that Jack came by that compass?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of Isla De Muerta. That was before I met him, back when he was the captain of the Black Pearl."

"I bet he randomly got it from a voodoo priestess or something. OoooOOOoooo!" I waggled my fingers in Gibbs' face. He swatted them away, annoyance evident on his face. Will looked surprised, and slightly suspicious.

"What? He failed to mention that."

"Why? Did you ask him for his life story?" Will gave me another Confused Look™. I rolled my eyes.

Gibbs took another swig from his canteen. "Well, he plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was. See, three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share. That should mean the location of the treasure too. So, Jack gives up the bearings. That night, there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die, but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."

"I should remember to do that to people I hate back home. Except I'd have to strand them on the side of a random road in the middle of nowhere, and during winter." They both looked at me like I was insane. "Yeah. Keep going with your story, Gibbs. Forget I even said anything."

They both shook their heads before continuing with their conversation. Will nodded. "Ah. So that's the reason for all the-" He proceeded to do what I could only assume was an imitation of Jack's mannerisms. I shrugged.

"I haven't seen him do anything weird."

They both looked at me. "That's because you act almost exactly like him." Gibbs stated.

"What? When did you get that?" I asked, confused.

"What?" Will furrowed his brows. "That didn't make any sense at all."

"You two are the ones who are lacking sense, my friend." I patted Will on the back. "Now get on with the story and stop talking about MY mannerisms. They're not subject to your interpretation."

Will sighed. Gibbs went on.

"Reason's got nothing to do with it. Now Will, when a man is marooned on an island, he's given a pistol with a single shot. One shot. Well, it won't do much good hunting or to be rescued. But after three weeks of starving belly and thirst, that pistol starts to look _real friendly_."

"I seriously don't think anyone could survive for three weeks without any water." This time they both ignored me. "Oh, fine! Be like that then! See if I care." I crossed my arms and just listened as Gibbs continued.

"But Jack…he escaped the island, and he still has that one shot. Oh, but he won't use it, save for one man. His mutinous first mate."

"Barbossa." Will said, understanding something I sure didn't.

"Who?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said, lass? Barbossa was Jack's mutinous first mate!"

"Oh. And Jack's trying to kill him. I get it."

"Right." Will was still confused about something. "How did Jack get off the island?"

"Well, I'll tell ya." I could tell Gibbs was excited to tell this story, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. "He waded out into the shallows, and there he waited three days and three nights till all manner of sea creature became….acclimated to his presence. On the fourth morning, he roped a couple of sea turtles, lashed 'em together and made a raft!"

Will looked quite sceptical. "He roped a couple of sea turtles?"

Gibbs smiled, almost proudly. "Aye, sea turtles!"

"What the fuck!?" They both stared at me like I was a talking waffle or something.

"There's something loose up in your head, lass." Gibbs stated, tapping me on the top of the head. I swatted his hand away.

"That's beside the point."

"What did he use for rope?" Will asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Well…uh…" Gibbs' smile faded as he pondered the question.

"Human hair." We all turned to face Jack, who had somehow managed to be stealthy and snuck up behind us without us noticing. "From my back."

"You know, I have to wonder just how long you've been standing there."

He looked at me. "Long enough."

"How enigmatic." I replied, arching an eyebrow. "Anyhoo…what's up?"

"Mr. Tuner and I are to go ashore." I nodded towards Will and began to walk off. I got up and followed.

"Whoah, whoah, _whoah_. You don't expect me to stay _here_ with _them_, do you?" I motioned towards the crew. "They creep me out…"

He raised his eyebrows. "I really don't see how your presence could benefit us, luv. Can you fight with a sword?"

"No, but I'm sure I could wave one around threateningly." He didn't look impressed.

"Are you good at bartering? Oh, wait. We've seen the answer to that question, haven't we?"

"What's wrong with ultimatums? I happen to think they work quite well." I crossed my arms. "Bartering's for pussies."

He looked insulted.

"Uhh…that is to say, if all you ever do is barter because you're afraid of fighting." I forced a smile on my face. "Anyway, you can't just leave me here! I think that chick over there wants to kill me, and I don't know why." I pointed towards the only other female on board, who was busy ordering around the crewmembers. Not busy enough to not glare at me, though. I shivered. "I'm gonna die…"

Jack chuckled. "Anamaria won't hurt you."

I wasn't convinced. "Psh, yeah right. She'll only rip my liver out in my sleep, that's all." He just shook his head.

"Look, I just can't bring you along, savvy? You're…" He thought for a moment. "…a liability."

"A liability!? Let me lay it down for you. You bring me along, I stay out of the way and do whatever you tell me to. You leave me here, and I'll burn this mother fucking ship and laugh as it sinks down to the blackest depths of the sea. You got me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Does someone need to go back to the brig?"

"What!? I was just getting used to walking around with the ship being all sway-ee and everything! Don't make me go back! I don't wanna!" I pouted as he laughed. "Very funny."

"Yes, well, let's just remember who's the boss here, savvy?" He patted me on the shoulder. I glared daggers at him.

"Pfeh." I stalked back over to the mainmast and stared at the gaping mouth of a rather unpleasant looking cave. "I'll show you who's boss…"

* * *

What will she do!? You'll have to wait until the next instalment of...THIS STORY!! (w00t w00t) 


End file.
